Lights Out
by MyNameBeNobody
Summary: Haley Cranmer didn't used to be into drugs, but then again, her best friend didn't used to be dead. It's funny how life works though, because thanks to her new way of living life, she meets druggie musician Johnny Quid. Johnny is used to people calling himself and his habits poison, but one thing he isn't used to, is someone liking that about him. Johnny/OC


**AN: First RocknRolla fic, and I've only seen the movie once, so sorry if I make errors. Also, I don't know too much about drug use etc. So I'm going to try and just be general, but if any of you have tips, please let me know!  
Not much dialogue or Johnny in this chapter, as it's more of a set up, there shall be more later, I promise!  
Hope you enjoy, please review! **

Haley Cranmer didn't want to admit it, but she was lost.

That is, if she'd been thinking coherently, she would have thought that she was lost. As it was, in the muddled state of mind she was currently in, her sense of direction seemed perfect. Of course, she had no real idea where she was, not that it mattered. She knew where she had started off, and that was all that really mattered, not the ending.

She had left home at 16:00 exactly, and had been walking around London for about five hours straight now. She didn't know what time she was going to head home, which wasn't hard considering that she herself didn't even know what the time was as she wondered the streets aimlessly. She'd left home with no goal, only 20£, her library card, and a packet of white power that she had found in her best friend's jewellery box.

That is to say, her former best friend, and the reason for her long walk.

Tory Billingsly's funeral had been exactly twenty four hours before Haley left home. Tory Billingsly had died a week before that. Haley Cranmer hadn't slept or eaten properly since then. She'd once heard it said that when you lose someone very close to you, a part of yourself is lost too. Well, close was too weak an adjective to describe Tory and Haley.

Born within a day of each other, living a street away from each other, going to the same schools from age five to seventeen, sleeping over every weekend, never going a day without seeing each other. They had been friends for as far back as either of them could remember. They could not look more dissimilar; Tory's blonde hair to Haley's brown, green eyes to blue, tall to short, curvy to slim, right handed and left handed. Yet, every mannerism and expression somehow still a mirror. If there was ever a personification of other halves, it would have been Tory and Haley.

Only now, it was just Haley.

She had no other half, not anymore, and how long could only half of something support a shell of what used to be whole? She was already turning into a shadow, without the bright colour Tory used to bring into her life. Her already slim figure had already gone down to the point of skinny, and dark shadows fell under her eyes, beneath heavy streaks of dark eyeliner. Her dark hair was unkempt and unruly, falling about her face like a mourning veil.

She had never noticed any of that in her grief, the empty emotion which weighed her down as surely as if she'd tied weights to her feet and plunged into the Thames. But now she had at last found an escape from that listless way of being. She was by no means happy, by no means back to the old days, but Tory's last gift had given her a window into her friend's old world, and now she revelled in it.

There was only one point that Haley and Tory had ever disagreed over; drugs. Haley had never been curious enough to try, and in all honesty, it used to scare her. But Tory had no such inhibitions, and sampled freely as often as her allowance would allow. She had always urged Haley to loosen up and try something, but had never tried to force it onto her friend. Now that she was dead, Haley almost wished she had.

Maybe then she would have given in, and maybe then she could have been at that party and stopped Tory from taking that one-hit-too-many. Because it was the drugs she'd lived by, the drugs that had brightened her life, which had eventually killed Tory far before anyone should die.

Haley had never met any of Tory's _other_ friends, or any of the dealers Tory had dealt with, she'd always avoided that part of her friend's life. But then, upon receiving a box filled with items of Tory's that were now Haley's to keep, she had found the little packet. She may not have taken drugs, but she had seen them enough to know when she'd found them. The white powder could have been either cocaine or heroin, Haley didn't have the knowledge to tell which, but she assumed the former, as it had been Tory's preference.

She had almost thrown the little bag out, cursing it, hating it for destroying her friend's life. But she had hesitated, looked at it again, such a little thing. A thought had crossed her mind.

_What's the big deal? What was it that made Tory so dependant? Why did she love the feeling so?_

She had slept with the little bag under her pillow, but she hadn't touched it again, not until the night of the funeral. Then, she had sat cross-legged on her bed –just as she and Tory used to do when they would stay up talking until the morning- and held it in her hands. Such a little thing, such a huge fallout, such a little thing...

She had spent the next day sitting, thinking, pacing, thinking, lying, thinking. Until her little clock had chimed 16:00. Then she had picked up her coat, put the little packet and her library card in its pockets, stuck 20£ into her bra; and walked out of the house.

She had walked for three hours, stopping briefly to sit on several sets of swings, losing herself in the defiance of gravity, tilting her head back and letting leaves tangle into her hair. Then she'd found a cafe in some part of London that she'd never been before. It had been dirty, the faces had been unfriendly, and some of her 20£ got spent on a coffee that she didn't drink. Instead, she went into the bathroom.

It was even worse than the cafe itself, and Haley had used the sleeve of her coat to wipe down the sink area before she spread out some of the cocaine. She had just been using her library card to cut it into lines, not sure what she was doing, following what she'd seen in TV shows, when two other girls walked in. Haley had frozen, unsure what to do, caught right in the action.

But this London wasn't like hers, and there was no shocked horror in the eyes of the older woman. One flicked a scornful glance at the library card Haley was using, and scoffed quietly as she reapplied her lipstick. The other, sent Haley a slightly pitying glance as she leaned against the wall, but no one in the room spoke.

Haley had waited until they were gone, before taking out the little tube she'd found with the packet, and snorting up the first line. It had been a shocking sensation, and she had almost sneezed it right back out again. The powder burned her nose, which was unfamiliar with this kind of treatment, and Haley had to shake her head to clear it before she could bend over and take in the second line. After wiping the tell-tale white smudges from the edges of her nose, she had exited the cafe without her coffee, and waited.

The effects had been... quick. Tory had never mentioned that part to her, in the rare times they'd talked about drugs. The only thought that had come to Haley's mind had been _'so, this is what Tory felt, this is why.'_

Haley hadn't ever felt anything like it before. For the first time since Tory's death, she was able to forget the pain. A strange sense of happiness settled over her. She felt lighter than she ever had before, as if she was floating above the rest of the world. She vaguely remembered discarding her coat, making sure to remember to stuff the packet into her bra first, beside her change. It was a cold night, but she hadn't felt it then. She hadn't felt the cold, the pain, the loss. It had been wonderful.

But that was nearly two hours ago now, and while sane thinking was still beyond her, the effects of the drugs had worn off considerably. She no longer felt like she was higher, she felt back to earth. The pain was at the edges of her conscience, flickering, waiting to slam back into her. Haley fought viciously to hold onto the effects of the drugs, to get back that feeling of joy, to forget. She understood now, she could see why Tory had taken the drugs, and she could almost see the temptation in taking too much. Death by happiness, there could be worse things.

The feeling of being lost was finally settling into her, and an anxiety began to raise its head as she walked through unfamiliar streets. Suddenly cold and without a coat, she rubbed her arms clumsily in an attempt to warm herself. Everything around her looked derelict, nothing like what she was used to. Tiredness was beginning to make its way into her mind, and her body was slowly reminding her that it had been awake for a long time, and walking too much for the lack of food and sleep that she had been giving it.

She began looking at the buildings around her with new eyes. She knew she couldn't make it home. It was late, she had no idea where she was, no phone, and she seemed to remember spending her money on something, but not what. Now that the high was gone, bad emotions began crashing into her, and she desperately looked for someplace that she could rest in for the night, and hide from the now scary dark of London.

A group of men sitting outside a bar were looking at her in a way that made even her tired and still slightly addled mind worried. Even in beat-up old jeans and a rumpled shirt, some part of her brain tried to remind her that it was still dangerous to be out, and her pace picked up.

"Where are you off to, love?"

"Bit cold out, come sit with us!"

"What you doing all by yourself?"

Haley kept her head down, the packet burning a hole in her chest, as she picked the most abandoned looking structure and made for it. She wanted another hit, she needed it. Shooting a paranoid look over her shoulder, she decided she would ignore her tiredness and do it, as soon as she got inside.

She shoved open hole filled door, the hinges were rusted, and there was so much junk behind it that she almost couldn't manage it in her weakened state. The place was dark, and with only the faint light from street lamps, Haley fumbled her way into an open space she guessed to be a main room. Gauzy material hung haphazardly, and she could see darker lumps that she assumed to be furniture.

"Hello?" she called out.

Pausing for a moment, she heard nothing in response, and felt sure that she was alone. A prickling feeling remained at the back of her neck, as if she was being watched, but she tried to shake off the paranoia.

Gingerly feeling her way around, she eventually found a table, and felt a faint smile curve her lips, her first in a long time. Just as she was reaching in to get the packet, a light suddenly flicked on.

It was weak, and would barely have illuminated the room to a normal eye. But Haley had been wondering in the dark for a while, and the drugs and tiredness made her extra jumpy, her still dilated pupils recoiling from what was to her a sudden onslaught, as she whirled around to face the room.

"What are you doing here?"


End file.
